Something for the Weekend
by cyberwulf
Summary: Sort of sequel to Y'Goin' for a Pint? Chapter 4 up - just where ARE Doyle and Angel? And Spike's Eminem impersonation continues!
1. Waking up is hard to do

Something for the Weekend  
  
By Cyberwulf  
  
Rated PG  
  
Disclaimer : Buffy , Angel and related characters all belong to Joss Whedon . A lorry rumbled past my house and they all fell off the back of it , so I'm just minding them until the rightful owner gets here . "As the World Turns" belongs to Eminem .  
  
Summary : Sort of a sequel to "Y' Goin' for a Pint ?" but you don't have to read it to understand this . However , it would explain a few things if you at least glanced at the end of the last chapter . The boys have been at it again , and their nocturnal activities – which they're too trashed to remember – have left them in some very strange predicaments indeed . Inspired by various stories of people being left asleep in amusing places . Oh yes – a bodhrán is a shallow Irish drum you hold with one hand and play with the other , and uileann pipes are Irish bagpipes . Further chapters ? That depends on the feedback I get . Enjoy !  
  
" Ohh . . ."  
  
Angel woke to a pounding headache and a very uncomfortable feeling in his stomach . He blinked blearily and gazed around at the darkened room .  
  
" What the –"  
  
He closed his eyes and fought off a wave of nausea . He opened his eyes again and had a better look at his surroundings . He was lying in a really old metal bed , covered with a rug . There was something sticky on his face . He wiped his mouth and stared at the dark substance covering his hand . He smelled it , then tasted it tentatively .  
  
" Chocolate ?"  
  
There was a moan from the other end of the bed . Angel sat up a little . Doyle poked his head out from under the covers .  
  
" Oh , no ," Angel groaned . " Tell me we're not naked in bed together ."  
  
" We're noh'," Doyle answered grumpily . He squinted around at the room . "Mother a' JAYZUS ."  
  
Angel peeked under the rug . Yes , he was fully clothed . Apparently he'd even gone to bed with his boots still on . He turned his head to the side and saw a chocolate bar wrapper on the ground . Another one lay a little distance away . And another . He followed the trail with his eyes until he came to a table . A table covered with empty boxes . Boxes that had once held chocolate bars . Angel's stomach made a weird sound and he stifled a burp .  
  
" Whose feckin' house is this ?" Doyle wondered . " The place is a kip !"  
  
He shifted his weight and something made a weird squealing sound .  
  
" What the –"  
  
The half-demon reached underneath him .  
  
" Holy –"  
  
Doyle held up an instrument Angel hadn't seen in ages . A set of uileann pipes . He stared at them and scratched his head in puzzlement . Angel realised he was lying on something , too . Something hard that was digging into his back . He sat up and looked over his shoulder , and saw another thing he hadn't seen in a long time .  
  
A bodhrán .  
  
He pulled it out and held it up , running his fingers along its skin before clasping the crossed wooden sticks at the back . Both of them stared at each other in total bewilderment .  
  
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce had the sneaking suspicion he was not in his own nice comfy bed . Which was a pity , because he felt extremely ill and could very possibly be dying . He opened his eyes . Yes , unless the décor of his room had had a serious overhaul , he was definitely not at home . He gazed around at the alley . He appeared to be outside a porno theatre . He shivered , and looked down in horror to discover he was only wearing his underwear .  
  
" Got to get some help ," he said to himself . He stood up very slowly , as his head felt so big he was afraid he might topple over . He was almost up when something hard and metallic jerked against his right wrist . Wesley sat down hard .  
  
" What in blazes –"  
  
He looked to his right and realised he was handcuffed to an upside down dustbin . Well , on further inspection , he was handcuffed to a chain on the blue jeans being worn by the pair of legs sticking out of the dustbin . Wesley stared at the dustbin in astonishment . Police "Do Not Cross" tape protruded from the dustbin , clearly wound around the occupant . The tape extended and was wound around a small road works barrier , complete with flashing light . The person inside the dustbin was singing somewhat miserably to himself .  
  
" I don't know , why this world keeps turning , round and round , I wish it would stop and let me off right now . . ."  
  
Wesley wracked his alcohol-soaked brain . The voice sounded familiar . . . so did the song . . .  
  
" Spike ?" he hissed . " Spike , is that you ?"  
  
" I'm Shady ," the person giggled . Wesley rubbed his eyes in irritation . Perfect . The vampire was still drunk . He leaned his head against the wall . How the hell was he going to get out of this one ?  
  
Ethan Rayne yawned sleepily . He stretched out his forelegs , extending his claws as he did so . He didn't know what he was sleeping on , but it felt nice . There was a warm back against his own , and the sun felt good on his bare body . Strange – he'd drunk so much the previous night , and yet he didn't seem to be suffering any ill effects . Must be his metabolism .  
  
He heard a growl from his companion , then felt Ripper shift slightly against him . An angry tail flicked across Ethan's side .  
  
" Ethan ?"  
  
" Hmm ?" the warlock murmured , eyes still closed , not wanting to get up just yet .  
  
" Why are we in the tiger enclosure at Sunnydale Zoo ?"  
  
Ethan opened his eyes . He turned his head and gazed into the understandably annoyed face of the Siberian tiger next to him . He looked down at the orange and black fur covering his own body , and said simply , " Bugger ." 


	2. Irish dancing and English stripping

Something for the Weekend  
  
By Cyberwulf  
  
Rated PG-13 for this chapter (yes , let's push the rating up a bit !)  
  
Disclaimer : Buffy , Angel and related characters all belong to Joss Whedon . A lorry rumbled past my house and they all fell off the back of it , so I'm just minding them until the rightful owner gets here . 'An Dearg Doom' belongs to Horslips . 'YMCA' belongs to The Village People .  
  
Author's Note : **Flashback** denotes the start of a flashback , and **Flashback Ends** denotes . . . the end of a flashback .  
  
Thanks once more for all your lovely reviews ! I just wanna reply to a few of them . Yes , Wesley is handcuffed to Spike – or rather , Spike's jeans . Tales from my friends inspire these funny situations (we are college students after all) : for example , Angel jumping over the bar – that actually happened to a friend of mine . Mostly , though , what I do is take your bog-standard story of someone waking up in a strange place/naked/handcuffed to something and then exaggerate it to make it more ridiculous . Also I get funny mental images around one in the morning when I'm trying to sleep . Is it gonna get slashy ? Well , not in a graphic sense , but there's a definite subtext developing . It's not so much the boys but rather the adults who have drunken disasters – they're supposed to be the responsible ones , so for me it's funnier. However , I may do one where Buffy , Willow and the younger Scoobies get trashed – I have this mental image of Willow walking jerkily down the street , out of her head on Aftershocks , going "wrklsumpfhwirkignalkssshhnyrarr" and maybe ending up swimming naked in a fountain . . .  
  
Anyway , back to the fallout from the lads' latest night of copious drinking . . .  
  
Angel slid out of bed and got to shaky feet .  
  
" Wh – what did we do last night ?" he mumbled , swaying slightly .  
  
" How the fuck am I supposed to know ?" Doyle growled . He sat up and stared at the uilleann pipes . " Hmm . . . hang on . . ."  
  
" What ?" Angel asked . His legs gave way and he sat down heavily on the floor .  
  
" I'm not sure ," Doyle said . " Tell me if any of this rings a bell ."  
  
**Flashback**  
  
" . . . who should I see but a Spanish lady ,  
  
Washin' her feet by candlelight . . ."  
  
Angel hadn't been coddin' about the club . It was a right one , too – big hall , cheap enough bar , live ceilí band . Though Doyle DID wonder why there was an Irish trad. themed club in a small town like Sunnydale . He linked arms with Angel and they did a mad jig .  
  
" First she washed 'em , then she dried 'em . . ."  
  
The Guinness was flowing freely – a lot of it into Giles , Ethan , Spike and Wesley . Doyle and Angel stumbled over to them , still arm in arm .  
  
" Wouldja not get up and have a dance ?" Angel slurred , reverting to his long-forgotten Irish accent .  
  
" Too complicated ," Giles answered , finishing his pint and watching the other patrons taking their places for 'The Bridge of Athlone'. " And all the instructions are in Irish ."  
  
Doyle and Angel shared an evil grin .  
  
" Suit yourselves ," Angel replied . The pair of them staggered up to the bar . " Two pints of Guinness there ."  
  
Doyle gazed drunkenly at the shiny counter . It was almost at chest height . He started sniggering . Angel noticed .  
  
" Wha'?"  
  
" I betcha a tenner ya won't jump over the bar ," Doyle slurred .  
  
There was a crash as Angel flung himself over the counter and straight into the optics .  
  
" That's it !" the Cork-born proprietor roared . " Out , the lot o' ya !"  
  
" Hey !" Wesley protested indignantly . Several large bouncers made their way towards the four Englishmen . Angel punched the bartender , vaulted back over the bar , and joined Doyle as a serious fight erupted , punctuated by slang from America , England and all 32 counties of the Emerald Isle .  
  
" I'll drop ya !"  
  
" Muppe' !"  
  
" Fuckin' gurriers –"  
  
" RULE BRITANNIA !"  
  
" By Jayzus , I'll –"  
  
Of course , there was only one way for it to end , since all the bouncers were six foot tall , three feet wide across the shoulders , and from Kilkenny . Spike and Wesley were flung out first , followed by Giles , then Ethan , who was protesting his innocence , then Doyle , and finally Angel .  
  
" Don't come round here again unless you want a trip in d white van ," the owner threatened , glaring at them before closing the door .  
  
" Yeah , yeah ," Spike muttered . " ONE WORLD CUP AND TWO WORLD WARS , DOO-DAH , DOO-DAH !" He changed into Eminem . " Let's come back with all our homies and shoot up the pad !"  
  
" I must say ," Ethan remarked as they made their way unsteadily towards the car , "that was quite enjoyable until the fight ." He stumbled and leaned against Giles for support . Giles wrapped his arm around Ethan's waist . Wesley noticed and looked alarmed .  
  
" We beat the SHIT out of the band ," Doyle cackled triumphantly . " And carried off some souvenirs ."  
  
" Whatcha get ?" Angel asked .  
  
" Uilleann pipes ," Doyle replied , showing him . " Yourself ?"  
  
" Bodhrán ," Angel said , holding it up . He started playing it . " My love is colder than black marble by the sea , my heart is older than the cold oak tree , I have the flash of silver in the sun , if you see me coming , you had better run , run , run , from Dearg Doom , from Dearg Doom , from Dearg Doom , from Dearg Doom . . ."  
  
**Flashback ends**  
  
" Oh yeah ," Angel said , remembering . " Still doesn't explain how we got here , though . . ."  
  
The pair of them sat in silence and willed their memories to return .  
  
" Spike !" Wesley hissed . There had been no sound from the dustbin for quite a while and he was afraid the vampire had passed out . " Spike !" He banged on the dustbin and nearly had his arm ripped off as the occupant jerked violently , scrambled away and tried to stand up . Wesley was dragged towards the dustbin , nearly fell , grabbed onto it and between the two of them they managed to get to their feet .  
  
" Bloody hell ," Spike growled . " What the fuck –"  
  
" Calm down ," Wesley said quietly . " You're just stuck in a dustbin –"  
  
" I know I'm stuck in a soddin' dustbin !" Spike snarled . " Bloody good thing too , or I'd be dust ."  
  
" Listen carefully ," Wesley told him . " I appear to be entangled in your chain , and my clothes have all gone missing –"  
  
" You're starkers ?" Spike asked with a chuckle .  
  
" No , fortunately I still have my underpants ," Wesley replied . " Now look , we have to get indoors before anyone sees us , so I'll start walking , and you follow my lead . . ."  
  
Grumbling , Spike did as he was told . Wesley moved to the edge of the alley . He stopped at the entrance and Spike bumped into him .  
  
" Fuckin' hell , why'd I get stuck with you ?" the vampire muttered . " I barely know you !"  
  
" Shh ," Wesley said . He looked up the street . " There's your car !"  
  
" Great !"  
  
" Looks like there was an accident ," Wesley added . " There's police tape everywhere ."  
  
" WHAT?" Spike roared . " If there's a scratch on that car I'll –"  
  
As the vampire continued to rant , memories of the previous night began to crowd their way into Wesley's mind . . .  
  
**Flashback**  
  
" YMCA , it's fun to stay at the YMCA . . ."  
  
They hadn't had to go far to get to another club .  
  
" Everyone got ID ?" Angel had asked , and received various mumblings in the negative . " Well , try not to look too drunk ," Angel had said . " Or giggly ." He shot a look at Wesley . " Or creepy ." He nodded to Ethan , who did his best 'innocent' face . Fortunately , the bouncer had taken a look , seen that they were all white , aged between twenty and fifty and wearing the correct footwear , and waved them through .  
  
" YMCA . . ."  
  
They were all sitting at a table just under the stage where the DJ sat .  
  
" Okay !" the DJ announced . " We want guys on the stairs ! We want guys kissing other guys on the stairs ! The best boy on boy kiss during this song wins the couple a bottle of champagne !"  
  
Before the DJ was finished Ethan had dragged Giles onto the steps leading up to the DJ booth and slammed his mouth against his . While Angel and Doyle cackled madly and downed some Aftershocks , Spike gaped and Wesley looked on with interest . There were a few other men half-heartedly kissing their mates on the stairs , but Giles and Ethan were really snogging . Giles had Ethan up against the banister , and the warlock's hands were around the Watcher's waist and starting to wander south . Eventually the other contestants just gave up and watched .  
  
" I think we have a winning kiss !" the DJ said as the song drew to an end . " Whoa , it's getting heavy ." Giles and Ethan continued to kiss . " Is it hot in here ? Chuck some cold water over them , quick !"  
  
Angel snatched Spike's pint and threw it over the couple . They broke apart , spluttering . Spike was about to protest , but then spied Angel's unprotected free jelly shots and stuffed them all in his mouth . Giles and Ethan made their way unsteadily up the stairs where the DJ gave them a bottle of champagne . Giles shook it up and sprayed it over their four companions and anyone else who was in the way . They staggered down the stairs and fell into their seats .  
  
" C-can I just say ," Wesley slurred , " that I really admire both of you ." Giles and Ethan glanced at each other . Wesley rambled on . " No-not many men would be comfortable enough with their sex-sexuality to kiss another man . . ."  
  
" Oh , I'm VERY comfortable with my sexuality ," Ethan replied , leering at Giles .  
  
" GRAARRR !" Angel grabbed Doyle round the neck and the pair of them mock-wrestled . The DJ started playing the Tom Jones version of 'You Can Leave Your Hat On .'  
  
" Okay !" the DJ shouted into the microphone . " Our next free bottle of champagne goes to the best strip tease on the stairs . The best strip tease ! Guys , girls , it doesn't matter – go Full Monty , that's up to you !"  
  
" I could do that ," Wesley declared .  
  
" Go on then ," Doyle replied .  
  
" Will I ?"  
  
Giles got up , hauled Wesley out of his seat and pushed him onto the stairs . Fuelled by several heroic lagers , God knew how many cocktails , and the thrill of being a public spectacle , Wesley seductively peeled off his clothes in time to the music .  
  
" Baby take off your shoes  
  
I'll help you take off your shoes . . ."  
  
Ethan wolf-whistled . Spike giggled like a loony . Wesley got down to his underpants . He turned his back to the crowd and mooned them just as the song finished .  
  
" I think . . ." The DJ paused for dramatic effect . " I think we have a winner ! This guy here in the teddy-bear underpants !" Wesley punched the air in triumph and nearly fell over the banister . Spike vaulted over the banister and helped Wesley to the DJ booth to collect the champagne . The vampire shook up the bottle and poured it all over Wesley's head . The pair of them nearly fell down the steps .  
  
" S-s-say hi to the b-b-big dog !" Wesley giggled .  
  
" Hi , dog !" Angel , Doyle and Ethan chorused .  
  
" Messy , messy , messy ," Giles tutted , picking up Wesley's clothes .  
  
" I insist we go and pick up some chicks !" Wesley declared giddily . " Oops – I mean form meaningful relationships with chicks – eh , birds – tarts – WOMEN ! Women !"  
  
" Good stuff !" Doyle agreed . The six of them made their way out towards the door, Wesley still almost naked .  
  
**Flashback ends**  
  
Wesley cringed .  
  
" Oh my ," he groaned . " I'll never , never live this down !"  
  
" Never mind your problems !" Spike shouted , his voice echoing strangely inside the dustbin . " What about my soddin' car ??" 


	3. Getting one's stripes

1 Something for the Weekend  
  
By Cyberwulf  
  
Rated PG-13 for this chapter  
  
Disclaimer : Buffy , Angel and related characters all belong to Joss Whedon . A lorry rumbled past my house and they all fell off the back of it , so I'm just minding them until the rightful owner gets here . 'Where's me Jumper ?' belongs to Sultans of Ping . 'High and Dry' belongs to Def Leppard . 'Frosties' cereal and all associated trademarks belong to Kellogg's cereals , and cannot , to the best of my knowledge , be used in occult rituals or to perform spells .  
  
Author's Note : Gah , this story is very fractured , because all the characters did different things and ended up in different places , so it's really like three stories all in one . Anyway , I got part of Ethan and Giles' adventures written , but I still haven't worked out what the other guys did , so I'm putting this part up now . There will be more later , I promise !  
  
In case you don't know , the Frosties mascot is Tony the Tiger . In Ireland , Buffy the Vampire Slayer is shown on TV3 , "brought to you in association with Kellogg's Frosties". Hence every time there's a break they show a few seconds of film advertising Frosties , usually with a supernatural theme (one is of a guy miming stabbing the box with a spoon while shrieking the theme from 'Psycho'). Ethan's spell comes from one of these ads . There is a definite subtext in this chapter , but 'tis all in good fun , and I promise it won't get TOO scary . . .  
  
" 'Try a spell , Ripper !' 'It won't hurt you , Ripper !'"  
  
Giles glared at his companion as he frantically clawed at the earth near the wall of the tiger pen . " This is the LAST time I drink with you . EVER !"  
  
" Oh , you don't mean that –"  
  
" Ethan ," Giles snarled at the smaller , darker tiger , " I don't want to hear your voice unless it's reversing this spell . Understand ?"  
  
Ethan's amber eyes widened in his best innocent 'I'm-a-nice-man-really' look (or , under the current circumstances , his best innocent 'I'm-not-a- tiger-I'm-a-really-big-cuddly-kitty-cat-come-children-scratch-my-ears'.). " I'd love to , really , but I can't remember what spell I used –"  
  
" Well you'd better remember ," Giles hissed , rounding on him , " or I'll rip you apart."  
  
" Give me a break !" Ethan exclaimed indignantly . " I was potted , so were you –"  
  
Giles swatted him with such force that Ethan stumbled and fell . He glared at Ethan for a moment , then turned back to tunnelling . Ethan shook his big Sumatran tiger head a few times and strove to recall the events of the previous night . . .  
  
**Flashback**  
  
" It's all right to say things can only get better , you haven't lost your brand new sweater . . ."  
  
Angel and Doyle screamed the demented Sultans of Ping lyrics at each other as they exited the club , Doyle with Wesley's clothes tucked under his arms . Spike was half-carrying Wesley himself , who was giggling madly . Giles and Ethan stumbled out behind them , arms wrapped around each other's waists .  
  
" Dancing at the disco ! Go go go ! Dancing at the disco ! Oh no , oh no , oh no !" Angel bawled .  
  
" Where to now ?" Spike asked .  
  
" Car !" Doyle shouted . " Girls !"  
  
The vampires , the half-demon and one former Watcher made for the black Desoto across the street . Doyle turned and looked at the two remaining Englishmen , still standing outside the club .  
  
" Coming ?"  
  
" Ah , no ," Ethan answered . Ripper was leaning heavily against him , far more drunk than Ethan was , a stupid grin on his face . Just like the old days . " You lot go ahead . We'll eh , catch up with you later ."  
  
" Grand so !" Doyle replied . He turned and headed after the others . Ethan gave a brief smirk , then steered Ripper around and started down the street .  
  
" Saturday night , HIGH !" Giles yelled . " Saturday night , HIGH AND DRY-Y . . ."  
  
" It's Sunday , Rip ," Ethan slurred .  
  
" Oh ." Giles stumbled against Ethan . " You know what I'd really like now ?"  
  
" What ?"  
  
Ripper looked at him .  
  
" Cake ."  
  
Ethan nodded . Well , after several pints of Guinness , a dozen jelly shots , five Bacardi Breezers (each one a different flavour) and one or two other assorted drinks , anything makes sense . He felt light-headed and giggly , and Ripper felt warm , and . . . and it reminded him of when they were both drop-outs squatting in various condemned buildings , smoking pot and dreaming up new acts of devilment to while away another wasted evening .  
  
" Come back to my place ?"  
  
Giles pushed away from Ethan , then grabbed him by the shirt .  
  
" Are you trying to talk me into bed ?" he slurred .  
  
" No ," Ethan replied .  
  
" Why ?" Giles growled . " What's wrong with me ?"  
  
" Nothing !"  
  
" Oh , okay ," Giles mumbled . He threw an arm around Ethan's shoulders . " Go on then . . ."  
  
The walk as far as Ethan's motel room passed in a kind of daze , the only highlight of the journey being when the last bottle of WKD decided it wasn't prepared to hit it off with Ethan's digestive system after all , and the warlock had been sick in a gutter . Finally they made it . Ethan managed to open the door on the seventh try and they fell inside , giggling .  
  
" Welcome to the shithole ," Ethan hiccupped , gesturing at the room , a drunken grin on his face . Giles watched , leaning against the wall for support , as Ethan staggered over to a corner of the room and leaned down to pick something up . He missed Ethan as a friend . . . and as . . . something else . . .  
  
" Ethan ," he slurred .  
  
" Hmm ?" Ethan asked , straightening up .  
  
" Do you . . ."  
  
Ethan looked at Giles blankly . Giles frowned in confusion as the twelfth pint of Guinness kicked in and he forgot what he was saying . " Never mind ."  
  
Ethan gave him a wicked grin . " Wanna have some fun ?"  
  
" Okay ," Giles agreed , slightly nervously .  
  
" Okay ," Ethan replied . He got some powder from a drawer and started making a large circle on the carpet . " Take off all your clothes . . ."  
  
Giggling .  
  
" Come on ," Ethan told him . " This'll be fun ." He peeled off his shirt , stumbled over to a bag , and took out a box of Kellogg's Frosties ™ . " Get in the circle ," he instructed as Giles pulled off his clothes . Ethan stripped the rest of the way and both men knelt in the circle . Ethan reverentially put the box of cereal in the centre . They joined hands . Ethan began to chant .  
  
" Tonius Tigerus Frostius ohh . . ."  
  
**Flashback ends**  
  
" Ripper !" Ethan said nervously , approaching the much larger tiger , and ducking quickly to avoid another swipe . " I've remembered the spell !"  
  
" Well , hurry up and undo it !" Giles told him , apparently forgetting that such an action would leave the pair of them trapped in a tiger pen , stark staring naked . Ethan shifted nervously and looked at his paws . " What ?" Giles asked in trepidation .  
  
" I , er , I remember the spell , but I don't remember how to reverse it –"  
  
Giles roared , a big Siberian tiger roar that would have made Ethan wet his pants , except he wasn't wearing any . The smaller tiger cowered and tried desperately to think of a way to forestall the impending vicious mauling .  
  
" Calm down , I think it's only a temporary spell , it should wear off sometime today –"  
  
" Not good enough ," Giles growled , baring his teeth and advancing on Ethan .  
  
" D-d-don't kill me ," Ethan pleaded . " If you kill me , you'll never know what spell I used . . ."  
  
Giles halted . He was loath to admit it but Ethan was right .  
  
" Humph ," he muttered . " Well , at least help me dig a way out of here . . ."  
  
Ethan rolled his eyes and chanted something under his breath . There was a flash of light , and immediately the pair of them were outside the zoo gates . Giles looked around, momentarily confused . His gaze fell on Ethan .  
  
" How did you –"  
  
Ethan was looking over his stripy shoulder .  
  
" Thank me later ," he said . " We'd better get out of sight before anyone sees us !" 


	4. Why vampires shouldn't eat chocolate

1 Something for the Weekend  
  
By Cyberwulf  
  
Rated PG-13 for this chapter  
  
Disclaimer : Buffy , Angel and related characters all belong to Joss Whedon . A lorry rumbled past my house and they all fell off the back of it , so I'm just minding them until the rightful owner gets here . 'My Name Is' belongs to Eminem . 'Seven Drunken Nights' is a folk song , as far as I know . "Spread of BSE" is a game my siblings and I invented one night when we were very bored .  
  
Doyle rolled his eyes as Angel groaned for what seemed like the millionth time . The souled vampire was lying on the bed , both hands on his distended belly . His fellow Irishman ignored him and continued looking blearily around for any indication of where the hell they were .  
  
" I feel terrible ," Angel moaned .  
  
" Yeah , well , yer not the only one , pal , so ya might as well shurrup abou' it ," Doyle snapped . " It's noh' MY fault ya decided ta stuff yerself with chocolate ."  
  
Angel frowned in puzzlement , his aching stomach temporarily forgotten as something from the previous night came back to him . . .  
  
**Flashback**  
  
Spike pushed Wesley into the back of the car . Doyle flung the Watcher's clothes in on top of him , moved the bodhrán and uileann pipes aside , and got in beside him . Spike got in the driver's seat and Angel got in the passenger seat . Spike tried to get the key in the ignition several times , but to no avail .  
  
" Fuck !" he shouted . Angel pushed him out the driver's door and slid into the driver's seat . Muttering , Spike wobbled around to the passenger side and fell into the car . Angel pushed him upright , slotted in the key , started the car and took off down the exact centre of the road .  
  
*Once again , the author would like to remind all teenagers and young adults that trying to drive a car while completely legless is a BLOODY STUPID THING TO DO.*  
  
Angel had absolutely no idea where he was headed , but wasn't about to let that stop him . In the back , Wesley was snoring and happily drooling on the seat . Spike fiddled with the radio while Doyle carried on a strange conversation with himself .  
  
" Carlow . Sugar money ! In Carlow they have . . . sugar streets . . . sugar houses . . . sugar cars . . . and what do they eat for breakfast ? Sugar !" He giggled . " But there's more to Carlow than just sugar ." He paused , then asked , " Siúcra ?"  
  
Spike grinned as 'My Name Is' blasted out of the radio . He started shouting over the lyrics .  
  
" HI ! My name is WHAT ? My name is WHO ? My name is – Slim Shady ! HI ! My name is WHAT ? My name is WHO ? My name is – Slim Shady !"  
  
Angel started to nod his head to the lyrics as his childe continued to rap .  
  
" Hi kids ! Do you like violence ? Wanna see me stick nine inch nails through each one a' my eyelids ? Wanna copy me and do exactly like I did , try sinnin' and get fucked up worse than my life is ?"  
  
In the back , Doyle started to groove around to the song on the radio . Spike continued to rap , very pleased that no one was telling him to sit down and shut up , as used to happen back when he , Dru , Angelus and Darla were travelling Europe and he attempted to while away the time by lilting a melody . Alcohol had quite a mellowing effect on his grumpy old grandsire . In fact , things were going fine until Angel started moving his hands in time to the music . Unfortunately they were still on the wheel . The DeSoto veered into the path of an oncoming truck .  
  
" FUCK !"  
  
Angel locked the steering wheel right around in the direction away from the truck , which swerved violently . As Spike's beloved car went into a spin , smashing into a row of dustbins , Doyle watched as the truck bashed into a lamppost . One of the back doors fell open in the crash , and several cardboard boxes filled with chocolate bars spilled out onto the road . The driver scrambled out of the cab , completely unscathed, and took off to call the police , and no innocent bystanders were hurt , otherwise a question mark would hang over the rest of this adventure . Spike , on the other hand , banged his head rather violently off the dashboard , and ended up unconscious . Lesson : always wear your seatbelt .  
  
" Yahoo !" Doyle yelled , grabbing the bodhrán and the uileann pipes , and leaping out of the car .  
  
" Hey , wait !" Angel shouted , taking the keys and heading after him , leaving both Spike and Wesley snoring in the car .  
  
" Chocolate !" Doyle bawled at him . He put down the musical instruments and started handing the boxes to Angel . A police siren caught their attention .  
  
" Run !" Doyle shouted , snatching up the instruments and taking off down the street . Angel followed as fast as he could with his arms full of stolen candy . They ducked down a side street and ended up in the garden of a big old house .  
  
" As I came home on Saturday night , as drunk as drunk could be !" Doyle roared , skipping about madly . Angel joined him as they screamed the rest of 'Seven Drunken Nights' at each other . Suddenly there was a mighty cracking sound and the pair of them fell through something . They found themselves in a dingy basement . The furniture consisted of an old metal bed with a few musty rugs on it , a rickety table with two equally rickety chairs , and a few assorted cardboard boxes . Angel looked up . They'd fallen straight through the rotting outside trapdoor of the basement . Staggering to his feet , he heaved the boxes of chocolate onto the table and then drunkenly attempted to rig up one of the rugs so that it blocked the hole in the door . He was partially successful . Then he fell over to the table and by some miracle managed to sit on one of the rickety chairs . Doyle was on his knees in a corner , rooting through a box .  
  
" I betcha a fiver ya won't eat all that chocolate ," Doyle announced with a grin . No sooner had he said this than Angel tore open one of the boxes on the table and started shoving bars in his mouth .  
  
Doyle had found a very old set of plastic farm animals . He was especially overjoyed to discover a few sheep , a cow , a giant hen , some fences and a farmer .  
  
" Spread of BSE !" he shouted gleefully . He set up the fences and then made one of the plastic sheep walk over to it and start rubbing its head off it . Angel continued to eat .  
  
" And then the cow eats the sheep brains . . ." Doyle giggled . " Moo ! Moo !" He made the cow stagger around and then fall down . " And along comes the farmer . . ."  
  
" Finished ," Angel hiccupped , licking chocolate off his fingers . Doyle flung the farm animals over his shoulder and staggered to his feet . He lurched over to the table, looked at the empty boxes and torn wrappers in amazement , and then looked at Angel, who was now lying on the bed .  
  
" G'wan ya boy yeh !" he said in admiration . He dug around in his pockets and handed Angel a five dollar bill . The vampire accepted it , and promptly passed out in a chocolate and booze-induced stupor . Doyle shrugged , and clambered in at the other end of the bed .  
  
**Flashback ends**  
  
" Wait a minute !" Angel said indignantly . " It IS your fault !"  
  
" 'Tis not !" Doyle replied defensively . " I can't help it if you turn into a compulsive gambler every time ya get locked !"  
  
Angel rolled off the bed and onto his feet , clutching his stomach .  
  
" Whoever owns this house better have a bathroom or a bucket or something ," he groaned , " because I'm gonna be sick !" He staggered up the basement stairs , Doyle following . Angel opened the door and . . . recognised the place instantly .  
  
" The mansion ," he said softly .  
  
" Fuck ," Doyle remarked . Angel clamped a hand over his mouth and made a beeline for the bathroom . Doyle stood and stared at the room in wonder as sounds of a scuffle came from up the hall .  
  
Cordelia came into the room , wearing a blue robe and with her hair in a towel .  
  
" Where've you guys been all night ?" she demanded . " Angel just threw me outta the bathroom ! What's the deal with that ?"  
  
Doyle grimaced as the sounds of a vampire being seriously ill echoed down the corridor . The doorbell rang .  
  
" Are ya gonna get that ?" Doyle asked Cordelia . She glared at him . He blinked a couple of times , only just realising what she had on .  
  
" Oh yeah ," he murmured , and made his way to the front door . He opened it and his heart skipped a beat . He recognised the angry trio as some of the musicians from the Irish themed club from last night .  
  
" Yeh won't get away that easily ," snarled the biggest one , a man with a black beard . " Where are our bodhrán and uileann pipes ?"  
  
Doyle gulped . 


End file.
